


The Space Between

by academyof7umbrellas (reader_writer_traveller)



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Angst, Ben? No Ben in this one, Five Whump, Hurt, Kidnapping, not a heck of a lot of comfort in this one, whoopsies five can't use his powers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-13 01:42:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29768787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reader_writer_traveller/pseuds/academyof7umbrellas
Summary: The past few hours — or had it been days? — were a blur of confusion and darkness; shadowed voices and silhouetted figures haunted Five’s mind. Had those voices been physical or only in his head? In some part of his subconscious, Five knew this was a situation he needed to escape from, but the pain throughout his body was enough to keep him laying on the floor.Or: Five gets kidnapped.
Relationships: Number Five | The Boy & The Hargreeves (Umbrella Academy)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 69





	The Space Between

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, I am back posting longer fics! Though to say I'm nervous to post this one would be an understatement -- I'm pretty terrified, not gonna lie. This idea came to me months ago and I've finally gotten around to finishing and polishing it up, and I hope you like it.

The past few hours —  _ or had it been days? _ — were a blur of confusion and darkness; shadowed voices and silhouetted figures haunted Five’s mind.  _ Had those voices been physical or only in his head? _ In some part of his subconscious, Five knew this was a situation he needed to escape from, but the pain throughout his body was enough to keep him laying on the floor.

Never staying conscious enough to grasp a time of day or a sensible thought, light and dark faded into a hazy gray filter. The static in his mind was unbearable and, at times, threatening to drag him back into unconsciousness. 

Time was lost to Five as he struggled to stay awake and focus on the present. Blinking and looking around, he tried to grasp any little detail of the room. Slouched against a cement wall, his wrists were cuffed to an industrial pipe and no matter how much he tugged and tugged, the handcuffs did not budge. 

“Shit.” He muttered, voice scratchy with disuse. Glancing around, Five realized he was being held in a windowless room with one door which he could only assume had been bolted shut from the outside. 

Five curled his fingers to touch the cuff, and for the first time, saw the dried blood on his knuckles. It wasn’t surprising to find his hands were bloody from a fight, but he just couldn't remember the action of punching someone —  _ or something _ . The skin was split open and purple bruises emanated outwards from the wounds. 

Closing his eyes, Five let out a strand of curses that did nothing to make him feel better. He had to get out of here immediately but the spinning of his head would not allow him to think straight. He swallowed back against the nausea that came along with the head injury, struggling to remember a memory or detail that would explain this situation.

But there were gaps in his memory that prevented Five from remembering anything which occurred during the night before. All he could recall was a step outside in the fresh air, a moment away from the hectic atmosphere of his siblings, and then — nothing. The feeling which stayed with him through the moments of unclarity was a trembling cold; a cold that Five knew he would never forget. 

He rubbed his eyes, wincing at the immediate pain echoing through his head. Long-dried blood stuck to the side of his face and the constant want — _ need _ — to close his eyes and sleep was overwhelming. 

_ No. Do not sleep _ . Five demanded of himself.  _ Escape. Get up _ . 

Every bone in his body ached, from his toes up to his head. And his ribs, _god_ _his ribs._ Five knew sitting or even standing would cause further agony and so he just laid there on the cold cement, breathing in and out methodically. He tried to form a semblance of a plan in his head. 

Calling back on the training he had received as a child as well as from the Commission, Five wracked his brain to come up with a semi-decent escape. 

Or at least one that wouldn’t get him killed. 

Distant shouting grabbed Five’s attention and brought him back to the present and out of the darkness of his mind and his scheming. It was definitely yelling and shouting, but Five could not make out what was being said or by whom. 

“Shit, shit, shit.” He mumbled, pulling hard against the cuff, letting out a curse as the metal cut into his skin and blood welled up around the wound.

But,  _ wait _ . 

Those sounds were getting closer — those  _ voices _ . 

_ He knew those voices. _

Bracing a hand on the wall, Five tried to stand but he stumbled, resigning to sitting on his knees, not being able to move. Pushing aside the pain, every nerve in his body was vibrating with adrenaline. 

_ He knew those voices. _

Five couldn't just sit there helpless and useless; he methodically started to pull the handcuffs against a jagged edge of the pipe. If the chain could just break — even if the cuffs themselves were still attached around his wrists — he could work with that. 

_ He knew those — _

Five ducked instinctively at the sound of gunshots echoing throughout the building. It took a moment for him to realize no one was shooting at him, and he shook his head at his own reaction. His assumed concussion was taking its toll on his body and mind, causing his movements to be slow, sluggish. 

The  _ bang, bang, bang _ of bullets grew louder and sharper, approaching the room where Five was being held. Wheels were turning in his head.  _ He needed to help them, he needed to get out of here, he needed to not be helpless.  _

“Come on, come  _ on _ !” Blue light just fizzled from his hands. Exhaustion already threatened and attempting to teleport only furthered that feeling. He tried again and again, and each time he failed. 

There was no way Five could depend on his powers right now; he would have to rely on his wits and hand-to-hand combat alone. Sweat ran down his face, burning the open wound. 

Yelling and sounds from the fight were growing closer; breathing through his teeth, pushing away the pain, Five continued to break free. 

“Five!”  _ Shit, _ he thought, pausing his escape attempt.  _ Klaus? _ Five was teetering on the edge of believing the voices he was hearing were real and thinking this was a figment of his imagination. The recognition and  _ sureness _ he felt before were now a pit of doubt in his head.

_ This is real,  _ Five told himself over and over again. 

Breathing heavy, he focused on the task of escaping. First thing on the priority list was getting out of here, preferably still breathing, and later Five would dissect how his mind played tricks on him. 

“Five?” This voice was different — Vanya? 

The first time he attempted to call for them, he began to cough uncontrollably, and he had to lean against the wall for support. The metal cuff clanged loudly against the pipe as he struggled. The sound would draw their attention to where he was being held. 

“Here!” He shouted until his throat went raw. Five wanted to stop and sit and catch his breath, to just take  _ one second _ and not strain himself. Yet the want to be home and away from this forsaken place was overwhelming. 

“Five?” The voices were getting louder — that was Allison’s voice calling for him now. Words were exchanged on the other side of the door, too low for Five to make out. But soon enough a deafening sound was heard and the door was shaking on his hinges; someone on the other side was kicking the door inwards. 

The ghost of a smile broke out of Five’s face.  _ They came for him _ . The door shook again and instantly broke from the frame, hanging haphazardly. Dust was thrown into the air and Five threw his free arm up, covering his nose and mouth. As the dirt settled back to the floor, Five opened his eyes and was met with several silhouetted figures. 

Luther was the first one through and pushed the remnants of the door to the floor. But while Luther was dealing with that, the others — Allison and Vanya — came out from behind him and into the room. 

Five saw the shock and horror written on their faces. Not at him, but at how Five was beaten and bruised. The dried blood covering his face and fresh blood coming from his arm. He’d have some explaining to do later — much later. 

“Oh my god, Five.” Vanya was the first one to him, checking his injuries and bruises. “What happened?” 

“Long story.” And he tugged at the cuff. Luther had a quick glance at the situation before breaking the metal cuff in one quick pull. Five rubbed his wrist where red, raw skin was evident of how much he tried to break free. 

“Thanks,” he mumbled, the words incoherent to even his own ears. “But I’m fine, I’m alright.” 

Taking a step forward was a herculean effort and he failed spectacularly. He would have fallen straight on his face if someone hadn’t caught him. He could’ve sworn he said something in response, mumbled a quick assurance that he was fine, this was all going to be  _ fine _ . 

But looking through hazy eyes, he saw they were not taking his bullshit right now and Five received various levels of disbelieving stares. He sighed, maybe it wouldn’t hurt to explain the current injuries he was sporting. 

“Concussion. Bruises. But I’m fine. I can walk.” Five said this all through clenched teeth, keeping his reactions to the pain at bay. 

Though Allison continued to help him stand, trying not to make it obvious he was mostly leaning on her for support. Five expertly chose to ignore the looks his siblings were shooting in his direction and instead decided to question them. “Where’re the others?”

Oh. That was definitely a slur in his words. This was going downhill, and  _ fast _ . 

“Diego and Klaus are finding the bastard. But let’s just focus on getting you out of here.” His sister said, slowly leading him from the room. 

Five sighed, defeated, “I can’t jump us. I don’t…” 

“You’re barely staying conscious right now. Trust us.” Luther said from somewhere behind Five. 

“How...how long was I gone?” Five knew the weight of that question. It told his siblings that Five didn’t quite know the details of what happened; that for once Five was unaware and had lost control. Allison and Luther exchanged a glance before Five finally got his answer.

“Just a day. But, Five, we didn’t stop searching for you.” Luther told him. “We knew you had been kidnapped, but it wasn’t easy. This man is  _ good _ . He knows what he’s doing.”

Five nodded and let himself take a moment to breathe. Allison led them forward and for the first time in hours, Five saw something besides the four walls that trapped him. And while the dusty and dirty halls were barely any better than his cell, a cool breeze blew through.

“Sorry it took us so long.” Allison whispered but the apology went through one ear and out the other. Five was just glad they had at least come for him. The fear of being alone had haunted him but he refused to allow himself to succumb to the thought. 

“S’okay.” He mumbled as his words started to slur together more and more. “Let’s jus’ go.” 

Walking with Allison was the only reason Five remained upright and on his feet. His legs were numb with shock and cold, tripping on the floor a few times before getting some semblance of balance. 

“Come on, we’re almost there.” Allison told him. 

They stumbled through the corridors. Diego and Klaus met them at the junction of another hall and led them towards the exit. There wasn’t much further Five had to walk, he saw the glass reflecting from the door. 

_ A few more steps. Only a few more _ —

Five was jerked backwards off his feet, a hand threatening tight around his neck. He felt Allison’s arm rip away from where she had been helping him walk and he stumbled, almost falling to his knees. But Five was caught by the person who grabbed him and —

_ Shit.  _

A knife was held against his throat. The cold metal was a drastic contradiction to the feverish temperature of his skin. Five breathed statically through his teeth, his wounds were only getting worse and worse and this was  _ not helping _ . 

“Put the knife down.” Luther said dangerously. 

“Why should I? He killed my father.” The knife dug deeper and Five felt blood begin to drip down his neck. 

“What’re you talkin’ about?” Five questioned, eyes darting back and forth between his siblings and trying to gauge their reactions. They looked equally perplexed as he was. 

The laughter that came from the man was spine-chilling. Evil. Five couldn’t help it, he flinched at the man’s tone and the knife slipped, digging deeper into the soft skin of his neck. Five opened his eyes, not having realized they were squeezed shut. 

Five swallowed as best he could with a sharp weapon held against his throat. 

“You don’t remember do you?” The man growled in his ear. “March nineteenth, nineteen-ninety six? You murdered my father in cold blood  _ in front of me _ . I was six years old.  _ Six _ .” The man trembled with every word. Years of hurt and trauma and anger spilling out. 

“It was a  _ job _ . Nothing  _ personal _ .” Five spit out the words. “I didn’t have a choice!” 

One more time. He was going to try once more to grasp his powers; the only plan running through his head was to run, run, run. The blue light flickered in and out around his bruised hands and —

_ Nothing was working.  _

Five could only imagine how helpless he looked. How helpless he  _ felt _ . 

Quick as lightning, Diego flung a knife in Five’s general direction. As the world slowed down around him, he felt the brush of air across his cheek and the  _ thunk _ of the weapon lodging itself into the man’s neck. 

The knife held at Five’s neck was dropped with a graceless  _ clang _ on the cement floor. Gurgling came from the man behind him, hot blood trickled down Five’s shoulder. 

He was almost pulled down with the dead weight as the kidnapper fell. Arms scrambling for purchase against something,  _ anything _ , he was able to steady himself against the wall. The sleeve he used to brush at his neck came away bloody and wet. 

_ But was it true? Had he really killed this man’s parents?  _ He was dead now, the man; arms askew and eyes wide open, staring into nothingness. 

Five knew he was experiencing tunnel-vision, that he was narrowing in on the man who tried to kill him several times. And that shock was overtaking his body; the shaking in his hands ceased and there was nothing but a silent ringing in his ears.

The world was underwater.

“...Five?”

“I’m fine.” He heard himself say almost distantly.  _ Was that ash falling down on him? Was this all a dream? _

“Yeah, okay, sure, Five.” Klaus —  _ was that Klaus? _ — scoffed. Five looked up briefly, they all saw straight through what he said but no one was going to question it — especially here and now. There was a better time and place for those questions; dissecting piece by piece his injuries and state of being would have to wait until they were somewhere safe. 

“Let’s get out of here.” A voice said. 

Time passed, Five was inside one moment and outside the next, he had no recollection of crossing that threshold. But he felt the arms of his siblings holding him up and keeping him on his feet. Silence followed as they walked, not a single word was utter as they focused on getting to the vehicle. 

_ Where had the car come from? _

Five was aware he needed medical attention. He was aware of the chirping crickets outside and of his arm pressed against Klaus’s side in the back seat. And that was all his brain would allow him to process.

Shock had fully taken over.

“Stay awake, Five.” Diego demanded from the driver’s seat. 

“M’wake.” 

“Don’t quite sound like it.”

A retort died on his tongue. Five couldn’t summon the energy to even speak or think or pay attention to the world outside the car window. Those inside the car with him were talking, the timbre of their voices rising and falling like waves in the ocean, saying words and sentences too fast for Five to understand. 

In the blink of an eye, Diego had pulled the car in the back alley behind the house. Five only knew the back door opened as a blast of cold air hit him; he swung his feet out, determined to stand on his own and walk himself to the door. 

But, instead, he dropped to the gravel and sat there, head leaning against the warm metal of the car. Diego stuck his hand out, intending for Five to grab it and be hauled upwards. Five didn’t have the strength and remained seated on the ground, staring at his brother’s outstretched hand. 

Klaus knelt down next to Five, gently touching his arm and pulling him upwards so he finally stood. Someone came up on his other side, but Five couldn’t stop the darkness fully taking over. 

His knees crumpled. 

Someone grabbed him before his head smacked the found. 

He was floating. 

And the last Five saw were the brilliant stars cartwheeling above him.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are appreciated <3


End file.
